Eternity
by Adamantwrites
Summary: A six year old Adam rebels when asked to watch infant Hoss. I wrote this in memoriam for PR's passing.


Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. All original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

Eternity

"Adam" Ben Cartwright said to his small son, "I need you to watch Hoss for a while."

"But I'm reading my book," Adam said, "…and I don't want to." Adam rarely was openly defiant but he had just received the new book and wanted to finish it. Besides, he was always having to look after Hoss when Hop Sing was too busy.

"I didn't ask you if you want to-I told you to. I know, why don't you read Hoss your new book." Ben strapped on his gun belt and then looked at Adam who sat pouting. Ben knew how much Adam enjoyed reading-his books were his only friends. He had basically taught himself to read after learning a few key words and Ben was surprised by how smart the child was, far smarter than he was. So his son's intelligence was a source of pride for Ben and a source of frustration many a time.

Hop Sing came out of the kitchen of the small house, his woven sacks in one hand, a filled baby bottle in the other. Both he and Ben had to go into Virginia City, Hop Sing to shop and Ben to visit the bank and to pay off the mercantile. Ben dreaded having to leave the two children alone but it would be worse for everyone to have to drag them along.

"This for Hoss he cry," Hop Sing said, handing the bottle to Adam. "You feed he hungry."

Adam said nothing, just sat in the red leather chair, his feet not yet touching the ground, and pouted.

"We'll be back in about two hours," Ben told Adam. "And remember, don't leave the house, don't let anyone in and don't start a fire for any reason. Do you understand?"

Adam sulked and didn't respond or even look at his father.

"Adam, answer me when I speak to you." Ben stared at his son's lowered head. Hop Sing became anxious; many a time he had seen Ben and his young son lock horns. For a child, Adam was given to bouts of adamantine stubbornness and he and his father were well-matched. But Hop Sing also tried to run interference between them, to protect Adam from his father's anger.

"We go now, Mistah. Ben," Hop Sing said, moving toward the door.

"Not yet. Adam. Adam, look at me." Ben moved to place himself in front of his son. Hoss lay in a basket on the table in front of Adam. He was such a large baby that his movements, the  
kicking of his feet, shook the table slightly.

Adam glared up at his father. "I wish Hoss was dead! I wish you were dead! I wish everyone was dead and I was all alone!" Adam threw his book across the room and jumped down from the chair and ran to his small room at the end of the house.

"Adam, come back here!" Ben yelled. "You come back here right now, young man! Do you hear me?"

"Mistah Ben, You no yell. Adam need gentle, not yell." Hop Sing walked over to the basket. The raised voices had disturbed Hoss and he was now crying. Hop Sing put down his sacks and picked up the child and began to gently bounce him. Hoss quickly quieted as he looked into Hop Sing's smiling face as he sang to the babe in Chinese.

Ben knew Hop Sing was right but he was hurried and anxious about money and about a malady that seemed to be affecting the few cattle he had. "Hop Sing…" Ben stopped but kept his angry words to himself and went to Adam's room. He could hear the boy crying. He knocked on the door and then walked in. Adam lay on his stomach on the small bed in the room he shared with Hoss. Ben knew that Hoss wakened Adam many times during the night and then Adam would come to Ben's room and pull on the sleeve of his nightshirt and wake him. And Ben flushed with shame when he thought of how many nights he had given a bottle to Adam and told him to change and feed Hoss, putting the child in Adam's bed. And Adam would do as he was told and Ben would go back to his room and sleep while Adam did duty.

"Adam," Ben said, "do you really wish Hoss was dead?"

Adam sat up, the tears on his cheeks, and put his arms out to his father. Ben clasped his son to him and Adam sobbed and between his sobs he said, no, no, he didn't mean it and he didn't want his father to die or anyone else. Ben stroked the back of his son's head. Soon Adam calmed down and his sobbing stopped. He sat back and looked up at his father.

"Pa, since I said that out loud, are you going to die like Inger did? Are you?"

"Not for a long, long time," Ben answered.

"I'm going to die too, aren't I?" Adam asked.

"Not for an even longer time," Ben answered, putting his hands on both sides of his son's face, looking into the trusting, golden-brown eyes.

"Pa," Adam asked quietly. "I know why we cry when someone dies, why we cried when Inger died and why I cried when my puppy died."

"Oh, you do." Ben sat tensely; Adam was too young to be thinking about death and dying and sadness and grief but after all he had seen in his short six years, Ben wasn't surprised, but many a night he had lain awake, worried about his child not having a childhood.

"Why, Adam?"

"We cry for ourselves."

"What?" Ben was puzzled for a moment.

"We cry 'cause we're lonely, 'cause we miss them, 'cause we don't have them anymore. There's a hole where they used to be-a big, empty space in the air." Adam made a circle with his arms as he rose on his knees. "We cry 'cause we feel bad for ourselves 'cause we reach in the hole and nobody's there anymore."

Ben sat silently, unmoving, and looked at his son and he felt as if this child was someone he didn't even know. How could this young boy know such things-understand himself even better than Ben, a grown man, understood himself? And Adam sat and waited.

"Yes, son, you're right. We cry because we're lonely-we cry for ourselves because we can't hear their voice anymore, or touch them, or see them."

Adam reached for his father again and Ben held him as close as he could, treasuring the small body next to his heart.

"I love you, Pa, and Hoss and Hop Sing. I don't ever want to not be able to touch any of you when I reach for you."

"Son," Ben said, trying to hold back the quaver in his voice. "If someone's in your heart, if they've touched your heart, then you can't lose them. But you can still cry-you can still cry."

And Ben Cartwright and his first-born son sat together, clinging to one another and treasuring each other for the short time they had in the vastness of eternity.

~Finis~


End file.
